The city pretended nothing had happened.
Morning came too easily sunlight filtering through tinted windows, traffic humming like it always did. News channels talked about stock fluctuations and celebrity scandals. No mention of an abandoned theater. No mention of Isabella Romano's name.
That was how Luca's world worked.
Erase the blood. Control the story.
But inside me, everything was different.
My sister slept in the adjacent room of the penthouse, sedated and guarded by two men I trusted with my life. She was safe for now. And that knowledge was the only reason my hands stopped shaking.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring at the city below, when Luca joined me.
"You should rest," he said.
"I will," I replied. "Later."
He didn't push. He never did when my mind was set.
"The cleanup is complete," Luca continued. "Isabella's network is collapsing faster than expected. Without her, the Romano loyalists are scattering."
"And the ones who aren't?" I asked.
He met my gaze. "They're watching you."
I exhaled slowly. "Good."
That surprised him.
"You stood on a stage last night and said no to death," Luca said. "People don't forget that."
"They shouldn't," I replied. "Fear kept me alive before. Now it's resolve."
Luca studied me like he was recalculating everything he thought he knew.
"You didn't flinch," he said quietly. "Even when she threatened the baby."
"I was terrified," I admitted. "But I realized something in that moment."
"What?"
"That if I gave in, I'd spend the rest of my life being hunted anyway," I said. "At least this way, I choose the terms."
A slow, approving nod.
Later that day, Luca called a meeting.
Not just with his inner circle but with his allies.
Screens filled the room, faces appearing from different cities, different countries. Men and women who controlled territory, money, influence. Power recognized power.
I took my seat beside Luca.
Not behind him.
The room stilled.
"This is my wife," Luca said evenly. "Elena De Santis."
Silence followed.
Then someone spoke. "The woman who killed Isabella Romano?"
I didn't react.
"I didn't kill her," I said calmly. "I refused to kneel."
A murmur rippled through the screens.
Another voice cut in. "You've brought instability."
"Yes," I replied. "And I've ended a bloodline war that's lasted twenty years."
That earned attention.
"I'm not here to threaten you," I continued. "I'm here to redefine balance. There will be no retaliation hunts. No vendettas passed down to children."
"And if someone breaks that rule?" a man asked coldly.
I leaned forward slightly. "Then Luca and I will respond together."
The emphasis was deliberate.
Luca didn't interrupt.
When the meeting ended, alliances held. Some strengthened. None broke.
Marcus let out a slow breath. "That went better than expected."
I smiled faintly. "They were ready for Luca. Not for me."
That night, Luca found me on the balcony.
The city lights reflected in his eyes as he spoke.
"You've changed the board," he said.
"So have you," I replied. "You trusted me."
"I didn't have a choice," he said honestly. "And I don't regret it."
He hesitated, then added, "But power demands a cost."
I nodded. "I know."
"The enemies left won't strike openly," Luca continued. "They'll wait. They'll test you quietly."
"Then I'll be listening," I said.
He reached out, resting his hand over mine then over my stomach.
"There will be people who say you don't belong here," he said. "That you're only valuable because of what you carry."
I looked up at him. "Then they'll learn they're wrong."
His mouth curved slightly. Pride. Something warmer.
For the first time since the contract was signed, the silence between us felt… chosen.
Not forced.
As I turned back to the city, my phone vibrated.
One message.
Unknown number.
You survived the first war.
The next one won't be so merciful.
I didn't delete it.
I didn't reply.
I simply locked the screen and slipped the phone into my pocket.
Let them come.
The contract no longer defined me.
I did.